


infinity as she is played

by ifimightchime



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, No Onscreen Character Death, but the entire point of the story is a character knowing he's going to die soon so... that?, implied but ambigious Helen Magnus/James Watson, mentions of Helen Magnus, pre-episode Relevations by way of the Tempus timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23357560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifimightchime/pseuds/ifimightchime
Summary: The night before leaving for Old City Sanctuary, James reflects in light of what he's sure is coming.





	infinity as she is played

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: turning points
> 
> Title is the alt-text for [A Softer World #895](http://asofterworld.com/index.php?id=895).

It's a point of pride and of fear, watching the century change. James' memory is sharp enough to cut himself with, and the Helen of the future's words ring loudly in his head that night. _Not everyone_ , she'd said, and while he could try and fool himself into believing she'd only been talking of Nigel's death, he'd seen the look in her eyes. To see the twenty-first century arrive is a gift he'd never dreamt of in his long life, even when first building the machine that granted him extra time. He's not surprised when the machine starts to give him trouble a scant handful of years later. He does his best to keep up with it, to improve it with what new technology he can integrate without having to rebuild from the ground up, and waits for the inevitable.

Whether it's deduction or gut feeling that tells him when the time has come, he isn't sure, but as he makes arrangements to visit Old City Sanctuary again, corpses prepared for transport and chain of command set for his absence, he's unable to shake the certainty that his end is here. Any doubt is assuaged when Helen turns up on his doorstep -- metaphorical, of course, as his staff is familiar enough with her face that it isn't safe. Instead, she makes her way through the back entrances he keeps secret from all of his staff, even his successor, and sends a message that she's waiting in his private quarters.

She comes rarely; James can count on his fingers the number of times he's seen her since he helped her to make arrangements. They exchange letters regularly; phone calls on rare occurrence, but more frequently than he does with the Helen that aged alongside him. He's certain that each visit has some meaning, a reason beyond any normal loneliness, but he purposefully doesn't look for one when it isn't obvious to him. The last time had been days after he'd returned from visiting the other Helen and the newborn Ashley. Helen had turned up with a pain in her eyes that James doesn't ever think he's seen before, in either of them, and though he's done his best not to think about why, perhaps he spoils his semi-niece more than he'd intended to because of it.

He doesn't rush. This is too important to rush. He finishes preparing his notes for his staff, checks one last time that the flight will be prepared when he's ready to leave. He pulls the folder that he only checks when he must from its locked hiding place to make sure all the secrets Declan will need at the moment of his demise, and not a second sooner, are there.

He could say something, he thinks to himself, staring at the paper without seeing the words written there. He could tell Helen how poorly he's been when he arrives, how close the machine is to total failure. There's no escaping the work in front of them, but Helen will do what she can to keep him safe if she knows; if John truly is playing on their side for now, he may not even need to worry about the stress of travel. He could even raise a question to the Helen waiting for him now. She's tried so hard not to change the future, they both have, but the question of how much change is inevitable from her very presence is a subject of much debate between them in their letters.

Loneliness is like a tangible presence around her, a weight in her voice each time they speak, and while James has tried to learn as little as possible, he's certain there's still a year or more to go before that changes. She'll be truly alone for that time, and if he was willing to prey on that fact, he's almost certain he could get her to go against her better judgement. He doubts he'd get too long a reprieve, but he could see another year. Perhaps another five or six, if his luck held.

But he has not lived over a hundred years with knowledge of his creeping death in order to falter at the finish line. There is no dignity in putting the world Helen's longing to return to at risk in order to scrape at whatever scraps of time James might be able to gather, not when he's already had so much more than his share. If this is what he gets, he'll only have to hope what he dies for is worth it.

Calmly, carefully, James pens a last few notes and shuts the folder, secreting it away once more. He stands and straightens his coat, takes a deep breath and one last look around his office, and then he goes to give Helen whatever comfort and goodbye they can manage without admitting to what they both know is coming.


End file.
